The Runaway Reporter (A Police Procedural Mystery Series of Crime and Suspense, Hyder Ali #3) (6 page)

Dr. St. Claire said, “There are hundreds of tiny needles in that patch.  They cannot be seen by the naked eye.  Attached to the patch is a tiny computer chip.  That chip controls how much drug to release into the blood stream.  The chip has sensors to monitor a person’s emotional state, and when it is applied to the skin, which is usually once a month, it will keep track of their behavior.”

Nolan looked at it in awe.  “So each of the participants was mailed this patch?” he asked.

She nodded.  “At first we had wanted to do a controlled test, by bringing the participants in our lab and monitoring them, but we quickly decided against it as it would’ve been flawed.  For one thing, there was no possible way we could bring close to nine hundred participants into one place.  On top of that, we couldn’t hold them for twelve months.  Plus, we needed to see if the drug worked on all types of people and was not dependent on where they lived, so that was why we had opened it to the entire country.  This is the first phase, mind you.  Like I’ve said, we have chosen healthy individuals from the ages of eighteen to forty-four.  In the next phase, we plan on expanding the age group and then in the final stage to anyone, regardless of what their health issues are.”

“Impressive,” Nolan said.  “I’m curious, is it possible to get a sample?”  Right now his head was pounding.  His desire to give up alcohol, cold turkey, was stressing his mind and his body.  He could use something like this to calm his nerves.

Dr. St. Claire shook her head. “Legally, we are not allowed to prescribe it. Our study is strictly monitored.  I’m sorry.” She held out her hand.

Reluctantly, Nolan handed it back.

“Okay,” he said. “Then can I get the list with the names of those involved in the study?”

She looked annoyed.  “I guess I don’t have to tell you again it’s confidential, and also, there are eight hundred and eighty-two names, so I’m not sure how helpful it would be to you.”

“I’ll make sure to not share it with anyone, and yes, I do need to see it, even with the amount of names on it.  I can get a court order, if you like.”

She hesitated.

“Listen,” Nolan said. “Three people from your study were murdered, so I’m sure a judge won’t mind signing the order.”

“Alright, give me a minute,” she finally said.

FIFTEEN

Hyder and Felix were back at the
Daily Times
.  They were trying to locate the landlord’s name.  Hyder knew if they found him and were able to speak to him, they could get the victims’ names.

The city’s land registry was closed, so they were trying to see if they could search for the name online.

This was when Hyder looked at his watch.   It was close to
Iftar
—the time to break his fast.

He had been so busy that he didn’t realize the day had raced on by.  This was good, of course.  If it had dragged, all he would have thought about was food and drink.

He told Felix he was heading home and quickly left the
Daily Times
.

Normally, he would have ridden his bicycle, but with the humidity, even at this late in the day, it would drain his body of much needed energy and fluids.

He decided to take public transit instead.  Hyder got on the air conditioned bus and after finding a seat relaxed on the twenty minute journey to his destination.

The bus dropped him off in front of a condominium.  Hyder took the elevator to the twelfth floor.

He stopped outside one apartment and knocked. After a few seconds, the door swung open and he was face to face with his older brother.  Akbar Ali was taller than him.  His beard was trimmed and his hair was gelled and coiffed.  Dr. Ali worked at Franklin General Hospital, where he was now a cancer specialist.

“It’s almost time,” he said, not concerned with pleasantries. Akbar was a stickler for punctuality, and so Hyder didn’t bother with excuses that would only fall on deaf ears.

Hyder entered the condo, and his sister-in-law came out of the kitchen with a smile on her face.  Aisha Ali was now a full-time pharmacist, dispensing medication not far from where she and her husband now lived.

As per tradition, Aisha had decided to move into the house that Akbar shared with Hyder and their mom, but it was their mom who had thought it best that the new couple get a place of their own.

As they were both busy with their careers, and Akbar was averse to mowing the lawn in the summer or shovelling snow in winter, the condo became their only option.

“How are you,
Bhabi
(
sister-in-law
)?” Hyder asked.

“I’m good,” she said.  “What’s going on with you?”

Ever since Aisha came into their family, she knew more about Hyder than even his own brother did.  Aisha watched over Hyder like he was her real brother.  Hyder never had a sister, so he enjoyed the attention he got.

He shrugged.  “You know how it is, being good looking and famous can be a burden,” he joked.

“I’m sure it can,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Another woman came out of the kitchen.

“
Assalamu alaikum
(
Peace be upon you
),” Hyder said to her.

“
Wa alaikum assalam
(
And upon you be peace
),” Mrs. Ali replied.

Mrs. Fatima Ali wore a traditional orange Pakistani dress, called a
shalwar kameez
, with a matching
dupatta
(
scarf
) over her head.

Her hands were covered in dough.

“
Beta
(
son
) when did you get here?” she asked.

Hyder went over and kissed her.  “I just got in.”

“Go and say
Salaam
(
greeting
)
to uncle and aunty,” she quickly said.

Hyder didn’t realize until he reached the living room that Aisha’s mom and dad were there as well.

Hyder hugged and shook hands with Mr. Ahmed and then lowered his head for Mrs. Ahmed, who patted him as if blessing him.

Mr. Ahmed owned several restaurants in Indiana and Mrs. Ahmed was a homemaker.

Next to them was a young man.

“What’s up, Nasir?” Hyder said with a grin.  “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Nasir Ahmed laughed and gave Hyder a big bro-hug.  Nasir was Aisha’s younger brother and he was a student at Indiana University.  Hyder rarely saw him, but whenever he did, they always had a good time together.

“I thought I’d surprise
Baji
(
older sister
),” Nasir said.

Aisha came over and placed a bowl on the dining table.  “I was so shocked to see Nasir.  No one said a word about him coming over.”  She glared at Akbar, knowing full well that he was aware of it.

He shrugged.  “Your brother said not to say a word, so give him the dirty eye, not me.”

“It’s about to open,” Mrs. Ali said.

As the clock ticked down to the final seconds before the end of the fast, they all recited the following verse from the Quran:

Alla-humma inni laka soom-to. W' bika aa-manto. W'alaika ta-wak-kalto. W'ala rizki-ka af-tar-to
(
O Allah! I have fasted for You. I believe and depend on You. And open the fast with what You have provided
).

Hyder watched the clock and then said, “It's open!”

They all grabbed a date and ate it.  For thousands of years, dates were a principal fruit in the Middle East and as such were the food that Prophet Muhammad ate when he broke his fast.

Akbar quickly poured a glass of milk mixed with
Rooh Afza
(concentrated syrup made of herbs, fruits and vegetable extracts) for everyone.

Hyder then placed sheets on the floor where they performed in congregation the evening
Salat
(
prayers
).

Afterwards, they sat at the dining table and had a meal that consisted of traditional Pakistani and Indian dishes.

Once done, no one had the energy to get up and clear the table.  After going an entire day on empty stomachs they were now completely spent.  Akbar finally took the lead and pulled Hyder in to help him put away the dishes.  Soon, Nasir joined in, and together they put everything away and even managed to fill the dishwasher.

Meanwhile, the ladies quickly made
chai
(
tea
).

With the hot cups in their hands, they sat in the living room discussing general topics, like politics, weather, and even what was happening in Pakistan.

Soon the discussion turned to Hyder and Nasir’s marriage possibilities.  Hyder took this as his cue and quickly excused himself.

After Akbar got married, Hyder was constantly reminded that it was now his turn to settle down.

Marriage was the last thing Hyder wanted to think about.  It had been a long day and the only thing he wanted to do now was to place his head on a pillow and pass out.

He left the condo and headed home.

SIXTEEN

Hyder’s eyes snapped open when he heard a knock on his bedroom door.  He looked at the clock and it was time for
Sehri
—the time to close the fast.

“
Beta
, you don’t have much time,” he heard his mom say from behind the door.

Hyder had come to rely on his mom to wake him up in the mornings.  If he left it to himself or the alarm clock, he would never be able to fast.

With all his strength he willed himself up and then proceeded to the kitchen.  His mother was behind the stove and the air was filled with delicious aromas from what she was cooking.

He knew she had woken up well before him to perform
Tahajjud
(
night
) prayers.  Although they were not obligatory, the Prophet Muhammad encouraged his followers to perform the prayers as a way of purifying the soul.

His eyes heavy with sleep, he took his seat at the table, whereby his mom placed a plate of scrambled eggs and
roti
in front of him.

With a cup of tea, Hyder devoured his meal before it was time for sunrise.  When finished, he recited the following verse from the Quran:

Wa be-saume ghadin nu-vai-tu min shah-re Ramadhana
(
I intend to fast on this day of Ramadhan
).

He then performed ablution and, after completing the
Fajr
(
dawn
) prayers, he went back to bed.

SEVENTEEN

Nolan’s eyes twitched when he heard a noise coming from downstairs.

He tried to ignore it, hoping to fall back into slumber, but the noise only got louder.

Nolan cursed, and got up.

In his shorts and T-shirt he trudged down to the main floor and opened the front door.

Lopez was standing outside, holding a paper bag in her hands.

“What time is it?” Nolan blinked. The sunlight was blinding him.

“It’s time for you to get up,” she said.

Nolan went back inside and flopped on the sofa.  “I should give you a key,” he said.  “This way I wouldn’t have to get off my butt to let you in.”

She went into the kitchen and said, “We decided to take it slow, remember?”

He rubbed his face.  He remembered.

They both respected and cared for the other. The last thing they wanted was for their relationship to end because they rushed in.  Their loyalty and friendship meant more than anything.  If they wanted the new phase of their relationship to work, and more importantly, to last, then they had to take baby steps.  This meant giving the other person room to adjust.  In Nolan’s case, it was letting him control his drinking on his terms.

Lopez opened the paper bag and began placing items on the dining table.  “I brought breakfast,” she said.

“I’m still asleep,” he replied.

“Do you want me to throw water on you?” she said.

Nolan snorted. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“How about hot coffee?” she said, holding a steaming cup in her hand.

Nolan saw the look on her face and decided he didn’t want to tempt her.

He took a chair at the dining table.  He grabbed the egg and cheese wrap and began biting into it.

“It’s okay,” she said.  “You can start without me.”

She was being sarcastic, but Nolan hadn’t realized she was still setting up the table.  “My bad,” he said.

She removed more items from the bag, placed them on plates, and then sat across from him. She grabbed a sandwich and began biting into it.

“I guess now it’s okay to continue,” he said.